


Caught Up

by caplanbuckybarnes



Category: Marvel
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 13:52:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14106801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caplanbuckybarnes/pseuds/caplanbuckybarnes
Summary: a day of baking turns into a day of hiding from the government.





	Caught Up

A knock came at your apartment door as you were whistling a soft tune, placing a fresh warm tray of cookies on your counter. You don’t know what you were expecting in front of your door- but a beaten and battered Steve Rogers wasn’t in the top three thoughts, that’s for certain.

“Steve-” you cut off as he pushed passed you and marched in, gun pointed out in front of him, eyes alert with alarm.

“Are you alone?” He demanded, still swiping his gun from side to side.

“Steve, what the fuck is going on?” You called out, hot on his heels as he walked into your bedroom, tearing into your closet, throwing clothes off the hangers frantically.

“You’re being watched by the government.” He mumbled, hardly above a whisper, had you been another foot behind him, you never would have caught it. He proceeded to swipe along the shelf in your closet before cruising under his breath and strutting over to the bedside table and examine the drawer.

“Excuse me?” You gripped onto his broad shoulder and forced him to face you as he was crouched on the floor, one hand inside the drawer, annoyed expression plastered to his face.

His face was stone and rock hard in determination. “You need to leave right here now.”

“What?” You shrieked. “Steve, I can’t just up and fucking leave my apartment!”

He closed his eyes and flared his nostrils in an attempt to calm his nerves down as he straightened to his full height. “Please, don’t argue with me. You have to leave here immediately. You aren’t safe here. The government is after your head and Tony with fucking murder me if I don’t bring you back to the compound in one piece.”

Seeing no other option, not when Captain America was standing so rigid in your bedroom, you dropped your shoulders.  “Fine.”

“Pack a bag, I’ll be in the kitchen.” He ordered before walking out of the room, leaving you standing in the middle of your bedroom, wondering what the fuck happened to cause the government to come after your head. You haven’t done anything illegal that you were aware of. You went to work and stayed at home most days when you weren’t spending time with the team.

You spoke to the team rarely anymore, unless an important scheme showed its’ ugly face on your computer screen.

“Steve,” you sighed, walking out of the room, carrying a small backpack full of toiletries and clothes. “Steve!” You had caught him with three cookies in his mouth and nearly laughed at the owlish look on his face.

“What? I was hungry.” He defended himself, taking an extra cookie before setting his face into stone once again. “Ready?”

You nodded, lifting up your bag to show him you were packed.

“Alright then.” he gestured towards the door, holstering his gun- he didn’t want to frighten your neighbors any more than necessary.

“Are you going to explain why you’re so gritty-looking?” You questioned once you had packed your bag in the car he had driven in. “You look like you ran through a cave.”

“I was worried,” he admitted. “I thought those ass hats had gotten to your apartment before I did.”

“What the hell have I done that would cause the government to be after me?” You wondered out loud.

“They know you work for us; with all the damned bullshit Stark pulled with the Accords, it was only a matter of time before they had accused you of working with Pierce and Zemo.”

You couldn’t help the eyeroll. “Zemo and PIerce are dead.”

“No shit,” he mumbled, pulling up to a house you’d never seen before.

“Uh, Steve?” You scrunched your nose in confusion. “Where the fuck are we?” You looked around, not recognizing a damned thing around you. “This isn’t the compound.”

“Well, you see, Y/N,” he smirked as he stood out of the car. “This is where I live.”

You whistled, looking at the small house. “I thought you told Sam you couldn’t afford a place in Brooklyn?”

“I can’t.” He winked as you stood next to him as he walked up the stoop to the door, pushing it open. “Bucky and Sam live here with me to help pay for it when I’m not stuck in the tower with waiting on missions. They’re out shopping for groceries at the moment.”

“Damn, Steve.” You whistled, walking into the kitchen  and making yourself at home as he placed your bag next to your feet on the ground.

“Coffee?” He offered just before going into full details of the events he had uncovered just that morning.


End file.
